


After Barbados

by simplywoven



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, IVF, LGBTQ Themes, Physical Disability, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25070494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplywoven/pseuds/simplywoven
Summary: “Kerry Weaver had a great deal of confidence in many aspects of her life. She was confident in her identity as a disabled woman, as a lesbian, as a physician-leader. She was confident in her intelligence and her skill. She was confident in her love for Sandy.One thing she was less sure of was her future as a mother.”A rewrite of my story by the same name, which explores what might’ve happened if Kerry hadn’t miscarried and which was originally published on FanFiction.net in August of 2013.
Relationships: Sandy Lopez/Kerry Weaver
Comments: 56
Kudos: 35





	1. The Beginning

Kerry Weaver had a great deal of confidence in many aspects of her life. She was confident in her identity as a disabled woman, as a lesbian, as a physician-leader. She was confident in her intelligence and her skill. She was confident in her love for Sandy.

One thing she was less sure of was her future as a mother. 

While being a mother was undoubtedly something she desired, actualizing it had proved challenging. Her career had been her primary focus for most of her adult life. When discussing children with her former husband, she had insisted that they wait until they had both secured faculty positions after residency with generous pay and solid benefits. Considering they had amicably divorced prior to completing their residencies and being a single parent had never seemed optimal, her steadfastness on that point ultimately paid off. 

It wasn’t until she fell in love with Sandy that she could finally see herself with a family of her own. She wanted nothing more than to build a life with Sandy, a woman she loved so deeply and who brought out the best in her. Then, it was Mark Greene’s death and his final words to her that moved her to act on her desire: _don’t let your work become your life_. A startling wakeup call, his passing had hit her harder than she’d thought it would and forced her to confront the reality that many of life’s offerings threatened to pass her by. 

Among those offerings was raising a child. 

\--

There were a lot of reasons that, at first, Sandy wasn’t sure about her and Kerry having a child.

In addition to the obvious disparities that their nine year age difference imposed, her and Kerry’s childhoods had very few similarities: Kerry had been the longed-for only child of two parents who had shown her the world. Sandy was one of five children of Puerto Rican immigrants. Though Sandy never had the opportunity to meet Henry and Millie Weaver, Kerry’s stories painted them as gentle people who fostered Kerry’s every passion and interest. While her own parents certainly loved her and her brothers, their brand of parenting relied heavily on tough love and strictly controlled chaos. 

There were also major differences in important parts of their personalities. Sandy’s favorite example was that Kerry had a hard time getting things off her chest: she tucked away her most personal troubles and allowed them to build up until they either exploded or imploded. Sandy, on the other hand, was a straight shooter: if something bugged her, she’d tell you right then and there, for better or for worse. That difference had proven to be a rough spot in their relationship on more than one occasion, and Sandy wasn’t sure how it would translate to them raising a child together. 

Of course, they shared plenty of similarities. Just as Sandy had told Kerry after Mark Greene’s death, the two of them spent their days putting out fires, the problems that were constantly threatening to consume other people. Sandy did it physically, combatting flames and rescuing people, while Kerry took a less literal but just as important approach. 

While the differences in who they were and how they were raised scared the shit out of Sandy when they first started talking about having a kid, she also knew that the passion upon which their personalities were based would make them good parents.  
She was sure of it.  
\--  
“And you’ll be able to handle it physically?” Sandy asked easily. She and Kerry were sitting across from each other on the living room couch, both dressed in as little clothing as possible while still being presentable enough to meet the delivery person from their favorite Chinese restaurant. Despite it being early May and nine o’clock at night, it was disgustingly hot. Even Wrigley, the mutt formerly known as Stinky who seemed to always have energy, was lounging languidly under a nearby chair.

That morning as they lay in bed before their alarm went off, Kerry brought up having a baby. It wasn’t the first time it had been a topic of conversation, but that morning had been the first time Kerry had expressed a desire to start planning. It was admittedly bad timing as they couldn’t discuss the idea in depth with them both having to get ready for their shifts, but Sandy had been thinking about it all day and had composed a mental list of questions and concerns. She’d already asked the how and when, confirmed the who, and knew why. Now she was getting down to the finer details. 

“Well, the extra weight will eventually be uncomfortable,” Kerry began matter-of-factly, “and it’s something I’ll have to be careful about, but I don’t see why it should stop us.”

Sandy’s mouth tipped downward, “I don’t want you to be in pain, Ker…” 

“Any pain will be temporary and more than worth it in the end,” Kerry said confidently. “There are things I can do if it does get to be too much. I’ll have options.” 

Sandy nodded. She knew that Kerry understood her body better than she ever could. Although it appeared to Sandy that Kerry sometimes pushed herself too far and did too much just to prove that she could, Kerry was the only one who could decide when enough was enough. 

“And you’d think about taking it easy at work, right?” 

Kerry’s elegant eyebrows furrowed. “Would you take it easy at work?” She replied, her tone just slightly icier than it had been just moments ago. 

“No, I wouldn’t. That’s why I’m not carrying it. I just want you to be healthy and comfortable and happy. Both of you.” Sandy responded calmly. “A few months of taking things a little slow won’t kill you, right?” 

Kerry kept her eyes narrowed at Sandy for a long moment as she thought, and then she relaxed and sighed. 

“I know, you’re right. I just don’t want…I don’t want to be helpless, or seem incapable. I’ve worked with enough pregnant doctors to know that everyone treats you a little differently once you’re showing. I’m afraid that I’ll...I’ll be treated as doubly disabled. It’s not as if anyone who knows me really treats me like that now, but I don’t want to do anything to encourage them to start.” 

Sandy considered Kerry’s words. She often thought, with all of the love and admiration in the world, that her wife’s psyche was a pretty messed up and confusing place. Though she did her best to help Kerry deal with some of her issues surrounding how she thought other people saw her, she was no therapist. 

“They respect you, Kerry, that’s why they treat you just like any other able bodied doctor.” Sandy said, placing her hand on top of Kerry’s where it rested on the back of the couch. Suddenly, their apartment intercom buzzed. She gave Kerry’s hand a squeeze then stood up. “They respect you now and I don’t see how anything, especially being pregnant, which is, like, the one thing women are universally _expected_ to do, is going to change that.” 

\--  
_Dr. Rydell’s a dyke,_ Sandy insisted after the tall doctor with a salt-and-pepper quiff haircut left the exam room. 

Kerry rolled her eyes but smiled. Her gaydar had gone off when she’d first met the fertility specialist, too, but she figured it was a false alarm due to the hair. Sadly, her ability to detect lesbians within a five foot radius relied entirely on her ability to discern short hair from long. Not exactly politically correct, accurate, or even logical considering nearly all of the lesbians she knew had hair that was at least as long as her own.

The couple was at the fourth and final appointment they had to have before beginning the process of in vitro fertilization. Kerry had gone to the first three by herself, figuring it was pointless for Sandy to come watch her do something like get blood drawn or have a pelvic exam, especially when Kerry could schedule the appointments to coincide with her shifts at the hospital.

The nature of this appointment, however, necessitated that they both be present. Today was the day that determined whether or not they could—physically and emotionally—proceed with the IVF treatments and attempt to conceive. 

Kerry had released an enormous sigh of relief when Dr. Rydell said they could go ahead. She’d tried not to tear up, but for weeks she’d been plagued by the thought of not being able to go through with it. The good news felt like a huge weight off her shoulders, so the tears fell. 

Of course, she thought after the initial relief had washed over her, they weren’t pregnant yet. She knew, and Dr. Rydell reminded them pointedly, that the road ahead of them was going to be long, emotionally exhausting, and physically taxing. 

Kerry had turned to Sandy then. Sandy grabbed her hand. They both nodded. 

Together they could handle it. 

\--

“Isn’t that going to hurt?” Sandy asked, eyeing the syringe in Kerry’s hand. 

Kerry looked at the syringe; she held these things every day but had never used one to inject herself. She shrugged, “It’s not going into _your_ stomach.” 

Lounging on their shared bed, Sandy shuddered, “That’s still a damn big needle…” 

“It really isn’t, actually. This is a subcutaneous injection, so the syringe is only 31 gauge; considerably smaller than one used for an intramuscular injection, which tend to be between 22 and 25 gauge.” She looked up from the syringe, “That’s what I’ll use for the hCG and progesterone.” 

Sandy knew all of that, of course. As a certified paramedic she was well aware of what gauges were used for what injections. She knew Kerry found comfort in her own knowledge of and confidence in the facts, though, so she let her prattle on. 

“Your stomach is going to look like a pincushion when this is all over.” 

“And my hips,” Kerry remarked, “The hCG and progesterone go into the hip muscle.”

“So, your ass?” 

“Yes, my ass.” 

“That should be a good time,” Sandy responded, still grimacing.

She watched Kerry intently—the redhead was still standing in their en suite bathroom, staring at the clear syringe cradled in her hand. “Are you going to use that or just stare at it?” Sandy teased. She didn’t want to push, but she also wasn’t sure how much longer Kerry could just stand there like that.

Kerry glanced up. “Do you want to do it?” She asked timidly, holding out the syringe. 

“No, not really…” Sandy admitted, shaking her head. “I mean, do you _want_ me to do it?” 

“Uh, no, probably not.” 

Sandy scooted over so she was sitting on the edge of the bed across from where Kerry was standing. Their gazes connected for a long moment, blue eyes piercing brown ones. Even without speaking Sandy knew that it wasn’t the actual needle that Kerry was afraid of, nor was it the substance that the syringe held. It was the implications of injecting the medication that gave Kerry pause. 

“We’re going to have the best kid ever, Ker.” Sandy said, rising from the bed to join Kerry in the bathroom. “The smartest, cutest, funniest, greatest kid. And we’re going to be great parents. You are going to be an amazing mom.” 

Releasing a deep breath, Kerry nodded, encouraged by her partner’s words. Still, she didn’t make any move to inject herself. 

Sandy stepped forward, now standing close enough for Kerry to be able to feel her warm breath on her face. “The sooner you do it, the sooner we can get into bed.” 

“Into bed? It’s only lunchtime…” Kerry asked distractedly. After a moment, her eyes widened and a sly smile graced her lips, “Oh, _into bed._ ” 

“These next few months are the last time we’ll be able to have sex whenever we want, ya know?” Sandy explained. 

“Well, if that’s not incentive, I don’t know what is…” She let her lips connect to Sandy’s only for a quick second before she stepped closer to the sink. Quickly, she cleaned her skin with an alcohol swab and, with one more look at Sandy, emptied the shot of Lupron, a hormone suppressant, into her stomach. 

\--

Kerry worked throughout the ovarian suppression phase of the IVF cycle. It was impractical and unnecessary to take time off, especially considering the responsibilities she had to take over in light of Robert’s recovery and the impending arrival of the new residents and medical students. Sandy insisted that she should take it easy, that she should cut back on her shifts and have someone else pick up Romano’s slack, but Kerry couldn’t, didn’t want to, and really didn’t need to. 

So, Kerry worked. She continued to pull her regular shifts and cover Romano’s meetings and administrative responsibilities throughout the first, three week round of treatment. At first she was worried about keeping it all on the down-low. That didn’t turn out to be as difficult as she’d imagined. Really, all she had to do was slip away from whatever she was doing for a few minutes between eleven and twelve every afternoon, duck into the restroom, give herself a quick injection, and then she was right back in the thick of it. No one noticed anything was off. Or, if they did, they certainly didn’t say anything.

Those three weeks went by quickly; most of the time, Kerry felt no different than she had the month before. It was an easy start to what still promised to be a challenging journey. 

\--

“Hey, sleepyhead…” 

Kerry blinked a few times, taking in her surroundings as best she could without her glasses on. She soon realized where she was and why she felt like she’d been punched repeatedly in the stomach.

Egg retrieval. 

“Hi…” her tongue felt heavy from the propofol. “How many did they get?” 

Sandy smiled, tapping the top of Kerry’s hand. The number seven was written in purple sharpie. 

Kerry grinned sleepily; it wasn’t an excessive amount, but it was better than nothing. It was hope. It was a start. 

\--

Kerry sighed. It was only 10 A.M. and she’d already finished her five most recent medical journals and that day’s Chicago Sun-Times. Now, she was watching a ridiculous talk show. She disliked the concept of this kind of entertainment but still had to admit she kind of appreciated the light, fruitless things they were talking about; it was a nice distraction from her own thoughts. 

Her abdomen still ached. She’d been told and had read that, aside from the eight-to-twelve days of ovarian stimulation, the egg retrieval was typically the most uncomfortable part of IVF, but she hadn’t known the discomfort was going to last more than a couple days. Now, three days post-retrieval, she felt nearly as horrible as she had when she woke up from anesthesia. 

Kerry was simultaneously watching an interview with an attractive middle aged actor and allowing her mind to wander when Sandy ambled in. Kerry had woken up at seven that morning but had encouraged Sandy to sleep in; the firefighter was exhausted from a 24-hour shift that had turned into a 37-hour shift when a three alarm fire hit a large apartment complex. Kerry had carefully slipped out of bed and into the living room to relax with Wrigley, a cup of tea, and her medical journals. Now, as her wife approached, Kerry could smell the cool tea tree scent of her washed hair. She smiled reflexively; that smell was her favorite.

“Really, Ker? You’re watching this crap?” Sandy asked, leaning over her partner. “You must really feel bad.” 

Kerry tilted her chin up so she was looking at Sandy’s face upside down. “Mm…you smell so good.” 

Sandy kissed the crown of Kerry’s head before coming around to sit on the coffee table. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” Kerry shifted to sit a little straighter as she answered. She instantly regretted the movement as her abdomen cramped again. She drew in a sharp breath, alarming Sandy. 

“What can I do?” 

“Tell my ovaries to get control of themselves?” Kerry asked rhetorically. “Or maybe just refill this…” Kerry said, gesturing toward the empty ‘Chicago Fire Department’ mug that sat on the coffee table next to Sandy. 

When Sandy returned with two mugs she set both on the coffee table and reclaimed her seat on the wooden surface. “That was too easy. Can I do something else?” 

Kerry started to shake her head—there really wasn’t much either of them could do, given the nature of the beast. It was just a matter of waiting it out. Waiting for the eggs to be mature enough so one could be transferred back into her body, waiting to find out if the egg takes, waiting for blood tests and an ultrasound, waiting…

Thinking better of it, Kerry stopped shaking her head and instead scooted over carefully so Sandy could sit in between her and the arm of the couch. Once Sandy was next to her, Kerry placed a pillow in the other woman’s lap then lowered her head and torso until she was horizontal and her head was resting comfortably on her partner’s thighs. Sandy immediately understood what they were doing and relaxed into the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table and resting her hand in Kerry’s hair. 

“Good?” Sandy asked, her voice soft. 

Kerry nodded. She still felt like shit, but being held by Sandy made it considerably more bearable. “Thank you.”

Raking her fingers gently through Kerry’s hair, Sandy smiled, “Anytime.”

\--

The pain abated on the fourth day and, coincidentally, the waiting ceased as well. Dr. Rydell’s office called at 8 o’clock that morning, requesting the couple come in that afternoon. Fertilization had occurred and it was go-time. 

\--

“Everyone says these two weeks are the worst…” Kerry said to Sandy. She’d just had one fertilized embryo transferred back into her body, the Valium had worn off, and the couple was in Sandy’s car heading back to their apartment. 

“’Everyone?’ Who’s ‘everyone?’” Sandy asked—the days after the eggs had been collected had seemed pretty bad to her and she wasn’t looking forward to it getting any worse.

“Books, the internet, pamphlets…you know. It’s not bad physically, just mentally. A lot of waiting and worrying.” Kerry sighed. “It’s a good thing I’m going back to work. I think I’d go crazy if I had to stay home any longer.” 

Sandy nodded silently; she could tell, just from Kerry’s tone, that she was more worried than she wanted to let on. Sandy was worried, too, but she figured that it was probably a different feeling when it was actually your body that the pregnancy depended on. Sandy would certainly be upset if, God forbid, this try didn’t work. But she knew Kerry would feel the fullest weight—physically and emotionally—of the failure.

\--

“Hey, Kerry! Feeling better?” 

“John. Hi.” Kerry momentarily turned from her locker to face John Carter then turned back, grabbing her stethoscope and double-checking the contents of her pockets. “I am, thanks.” 

“I don’t remember the last time you were out sick—guess it caught up with you, huh?”

“How have things been around here?” 

The Chief Resident shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “It’s been hectic. Too many GSWs, not enough staff, but no bioterrorism scares or severed limbs.” John joked, “It’s been a typical summer week. Glad you’re back.” 

“Me too,” Kerry nodded, closing her locker and heading out the lounge door. Over her shoulder, she called out one last thought, “And John, it wasn’t bioterrorism!” 

The young doctor waved off his boss’ comment with a wry smile as he headed for the ambulance bay.

\--

The two weeks were, as promised, difficult. Kerry found herself mentally tracking every move she made, everything she ate and drank, how much sleep she was getting and how much she was working. The only times she truly forgot about what was hopefully occurring inside her body was when she was either asleep or in the midst of a trauma. Other than that, it was constantly on her mind. Constantly.

\--

“You know that I love you no matter what, right?” Sandy asked quietly, placing her hand over Kerry’s where it rested on the arm of the chair. They were sitting in front of Dr. Rydell’s desk, waiting for the results of the blood test. 

Sandy knew that one of Kerry’s most significant and ongoing internal battles was the need to succeed at everything she did. While they both rationally knew that Kerry’s own efforts had nothing to do with whether or not this IVF attempt was successful, Sandy knew that her wife could very easily turn a negative result into a personal failure. 

Kerry nodded, not trusting herself to speak without a shaking voice. She squeezed Sandy’s hand once more before Dr. Rydell’s office door opened and the fertility specialist entered the room.


	2. Four Weeks

“I lost it on Elizabeth Corday today,” Kerry admitted as she and Sandy sat across from each other at the dinner table. 

“Did she deserve it?” 

Kerry sighed.

“We haven’t been on great terms since Mark first got sick and she’s been less than agreeable since she moved back from England, but it was just a minor disagreement. There’s no denying I overreacted; I couldn’t keep my emotions in check.” Suddenly, she laughed in spite of herself, “I actually cried, for God’s sake.”

Though her fuse was quite short, Kerry could typically control her emotions well. Often too well. But in recent months, between the IVF and now the pregnancy, they’d become noticeably more volatile. 

Sandy smiled understandingly, rose from her seat, and came around to give Kerry a kiss. Kerry leaned her forehead against Sandy’s after their lips parted. 

“It still doesn’t feel real,” Kerry commented, leaning back in her seat as Sandy picked up both of their plates and brought them to the dishwasher. 

“How do you feel physically? Do you even feel anything yet?” 

“I can’t feel the baby, but I do feel like crap,” Kerry replied. “I’ve had an awful headache all day and this was the first meal that didn’t turn my stomach.” 

Sandy winced sympathetically. “Was your shift slow, at least?”

“Yes, actually, and we had more than enough attendings for once,” Kerry explained, nodding. “I spent my last couple hours catching up on some work for the County HHS meeting next week.”

Sandy was quietly impressed by Kerry’s willingness to respect her own physical limits for once. 

“Did you tell anyone?” 

“That I’m pregnant? No, no.” Kerry said. She was walking into the kitchen now sans crutch, their empty glasses in hand. “I know I’ll have to eventually. There are already a few rumors swirling around about why I’ve been taking time off, and I’m sure there will be more if this keeps up, but it’s way too soon.” 

Sandy knew that Kerry wanted to keep her pregnancy under wraps for as long as possible; not just until they were safely past the twelve-week mark, but until it actually became necessary for others to know. It was a point of contempt for Sandy: aside from wanting to tell their friends and family, she worried that Kerry would push herself too hard trying to keep the pregnancy a secret. 

“You should take a bath, relax for a while before bed” Sandy directed. She waved in the direction of the kitchen counter. “I’ll clean up in here and take Wrigs out.” 

Kerry smiled at her wife and collected her crutch from the corner of the kitchen. Before she headed to the bathroom, she walked over and gave Sandy a small kiss on the cheek. “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate you? Because I do. Very much.”

Sandy smiled, a dimple appearing where Kerry’s lips had just been. “Go. I’ll be there soon.” 

Kerry did as told, going down the darkened hall and into their shared bedroom. While the nausea had abated and her headache had lessened, the fatigue she’d been fighting all day finally caught up with her. Each step felt heavy, like her feet were encased in cement blocks, and her head felt like it was filled with cotton. She sat on their bed to undress but suddenly found herself horizontal with her head on her pillow. Within moments, though still fully clothed, she was asleep. 

“Kerry?” Sandy called out as she dried her hands with a small towel. Though she’d sent Kerry away over fifteen minutes ago, she still hadn’t heard the bath run. She stopped short when she entered the room. There was her wife, still clothed and curled up on their bed. She was already out cold as evidenced by her deep breathing. 

Sandy knew she should wake her. Though Kerry had changed into ‘at home clothes’ as she always did after returning from the hospital, the jeans she wore weren’t the most comfortable sleepwear. But the peaceful expression on Kerry’s face stopped her. Instead, Sandy gently pulled Kerry’s glasses from her nose and picked her crutch up off of the bed. She placed the fragile frames on the bedside table and leant the crutch against the wall before shutting off the light and exiting their room.

She’d take Wrigley for a walk. If Kerry was still asleep when she got back, Sandy would wake her then so she could at least change and, hopefully, sleep a little more comfortably.


	3. Ten Weeks

“Uh, send her...send her up to radiology,” Kerry said distractedly to whomever in the trauma room was listening. She pulled off her yellow gown, stripped herself of her gloves, and moved toward the double doors, “I’ll check in on her later.”

  
“What’s her deal?” Greg Pratt asked snidely once the Chief was out of earshot.

  
Abby only shrugged. Though she had noticed that her boss’s behavior was slightly off, Abby didn’t think much about it; by now she was well acquainted with the many moods of Kerry Weaver.  
  


* * *

  
Kerry had been relieved to find the bathroom empty when she rushed in: she couldn’t imagine anything more mortifying than vomiting in the presence of a patient, except perhaps vomiting in the presence of one of her staff. She’d done that and more after a chemical spill years ago and remained grateful to this day that she had no clear memory of it herself.

  
After a long few minutes spent kneeling painfully on the cold, thankfully clean tile, Kerry managed to pull herself into a standing position. She was instantly dizzy, the sudden movement and probable dehydration making her blood pressure drop. She breathed deeply and leaned heavily on her crutch until it passed, smoothed out her pants and lab coat, then unlocked the stall and exited.

  
“Kerry?”

  
Kerry flinched, startled, and had to override the urge to turn around and step back into the stall at the sight of Susan Lewis, whose grey eyes were narrowed in her direction.

  
Instead she collected herself quickly and continued toward the sinks. “Do you need something, Susan?”

  
“Are you alright?” Susan asked uneasily.

  
“Yeah, I’m fine. Yes.” Kerry replied as she washed her hands. “Thank you.”

  
Susan looked at her skeptically.

  
“No offense, Kerry, but you’ve looked horrible for weeks, now. People are starting to notice, they’re worried. _I’m_ worried.”

  
It was, by all accounts, still too early to tell anyone she was expecting. However, between calling in sick, admitting to taking hormones, and her current situation, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep the façade up much longer. She didn’t doubt that Susan’s concern was genuine. Years ago, she wouldn’t have trusted the younger doctor not to feed information about her personal life to the grapevine, but Susan had shown a great deal of discretion during Mark’s illness and was, unsurprisingly, more mature now than when she was just a young resident.

  
Kerry had also come to realize the importance of having people who genuinely cared about your wellbeing in your corner.

  
Kerry took a deep breath.

  
“It’s morning sickness, Susan.”

  
Susan’s eyes slowly widened, “You’re...you’re pregnant?”

  
Kerry nodded.

  
“Oh my god,” Susan smiled. “That’s incredible, Kerry! Congratulations!”

  
Kerry felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She, too, smiled.

  
“I was so worried it was something else, something bad.” Susan admitted. They both knew what she meant: something irreversible, inoperable, fatal. “When are you due?”

  
“Early May.” Kerry said. “I’ve been...we’re doing IVF. We _did_ IVF.”

  
Quick mental math, Kerry’s apparent morning sickness, and the absence of any visible baby bump (though it was never easy to notice under a lab coat) indicated that she was, at most, twelve weeks along. Susan now understood Kerry’s hesitancy to reveal the source of her sickness; she wasn’t necessarily sharing the news because she was ready to, but rather because she had to. Still, even if it was an obligatory announcement, Susan felt strangely honored that Kerry had trusted her enough to tell her.

  
“This is incredible!” Susan repeated. “But, you know, you really don’t look good. Do you think you should go home?”

  
“Oh, uh…I don’t think that’s necessary.” She said tentatively. For the first time in her career, there was a possibility that she’d run out of earned time faster than she could accumulate it. “It’ll pass soon. I’ll be fine.”

  
Susan looked at Kerry skeptically. She knew Kerry was stubborn and proud, but she also clearly felt like shit. If she was a patient and Kerry was her doctor right now, she’d probably have some serious reservations about being treated by her. No one wants a doctor who seems to be sicker than them. “Okay, well just let me know if you change your mind - I can get someone to cover the rest of your shift.”

  
“Thank you,” Kerry nodded.

  
Susan nodded and turned, heading for the door to give Kerry another moment to gather herself. Kerry’s voice stopped her.

  
“Oh, and Susan? If you could...It’s still so early. We haven’t even told Sandy’s family and with IVF…”

  
Susan didn’t need Kerry to finish her request. “My lips are sealed,” she assured.

  
Kerry nodded her thanks.

* * *

  
An hour or so later Susan was moving away from the drug lock up when she heard the sound of rubber clicking on tile coming towards her.

  
“Susan, if you’re sure you can get coverage...” Kerry began quietly, falling into step next to her. Her voice sounded like it hurt to talk and Susan wondered just how much more time Kerry had spent in the restroom since they last spoke. “I think I will head home.”

  
“I’m sure, Kerry.” Susan confirmed. “It’s quiet. Go home and get some rest.”

  
Kerry gave her a small, grateful nod. “Thank you.”

* * *

  
“Carter, I need you to stick around through the shift change tonight.”

  
The Chief Resident spun around in the admit desk chair and looked at Susan with confusion. “I thought Weaver was covering it? Isn’t she on until seven?”

  
Susan tilted her head from side to side as she moved about the admit desk, picking up another chart and signing her initials next to the patient’s name on the board. “She was, but now I need you to cover.”

  
Unsatisfied, John pushed for more information. “But what about Kerry?”

  
“She went home early.”

  
“Again?” he asked, his voice and expression softening slightly. “Is she okay?”

  
“Just cover her last two hours, okay?” Susan asked, effectively ending the conversation.

  
John nodded and hopped off his seat, grabbed a chart, and went off in search of his med student.

* * *

  
“Where is Kerry?” Luka asked once Carter had finished passing on his and Kerry’s remaining patients.

  
“She left early.”

  
“Oh,” Luka paused. “Is she okay?”

  
“Do you think she’d tell us if she wasn’t?”

  
Luka gazed at Carter’s profile for a long moment then shrugged. His impression of their boss suggested that she probably wouldn’t tell anyone if she was ill, but it wasn’t clear to him if anyone had actually asked. He hoped someone had, not because he wanted to know, but because Kerry deserved at least that much consideration from her colleagues. That wasn’t really his business, though, and considering recent tensions between him and most of the department, he wasn’t going to probe.

  
Carter headed to the lounge without further comment. What he hadn’t told Luka was that he’d been worrying about Kerry all afternoon. He was almost positive that, up until this year, Kerry had only called in sick a handful of times since he was an intern. While some of the staff on the floor had a penchant for staying home at the first sign of any illness - which admittedly wasn’t always a bad thing from an infection prevention perspective - Carter knew that Kerry worked until she absolutely couldn’t. That was why he’d been increasingly, albeit quietly, concerned about her: she was coming in late and leaving early more frequently than anyone else in the ER and it seemed like she had called out for more shifts than she’d worked in the last couple weeks. He’d been called in to cover a couple of them himself.

  
It was a tangible effort to not guess what might be afflicting her, but Carter tried his hardest to keep his worries at bay; he knew that Kerry’s personal life wasn’t his or anyone else’s business until she wanted it to be.


	4. 14 Weeks 6 Days, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings in the end notes.

Kerry felt like she was outside of her body as she looked down at the bloody underwear between her knees. 

This is nothing, she insisted in an attempt to ground herself. It’s spotting, just spotting. It was expected. And, while it hadn’t looked quite like this, she had already experienced it in previous weeks. 

“Kerry! You coming?” Sandy’s voice calling to her from the living room made Kerry jump into action. 

They were on their way to Sandy’s parents’ house for Sunday lunch, the first one in months that she’d be attending. Sandy had been able to swing by every other week or so, usually right before or after a shift, but Kerry’s work schedule combined with how unwell she’d felt during IVF and the first weeks of her pregnancy had kept her away from the Lopez family since the summer.

Quickly, she urinated and wiped, briefly noting the blood there, too, then stripped off her jeans and underwear before exiting the en suite and making a beeline for the adjoining closet for clean underwear. The soiled ones went straight into the small metal trash can. 

Redressing, Kerry paused to stick a pad to her underwear before zipping and buttoning her jeans. She washed her hands quickly, grabbed another individually wrapped pad from under the sink, and passed through their bedroom to meet Sandy in the living room. 

“We’re going to be late,” Sandy said, rising from the couch and passing Kerry her coat. Her expression changed upon noticing the plastic-wrapped square in Kerry’s left hand. “You okay?” 

“Just spotting,” Kerry responded, tucking it into her purse before handing her crutch to Sandy in exchange for her coat. 

Sandy scrutinized her partner. 

“I know I’m not the doctor here, but...are you sure? I thought that would be over by now?” She asked carefully. 

Kerry didn’t give herself time to consider any alternative answers to her wife’s questions.

“I’m sure,” she answered, reclaiming her crutch and heading toward the door.

Sandy followed, wanting to trust her wife yet still feeling uneasy. 

As Sandy had predicted, they were late arriving at her parents’ house. 

“Mija, we thought you were not coming after all,” her mother said as Sandy and Kerry walked through the entryway. 

“I said we were, Mom,” Sandy responded, hanging her and Kerry’s coats on the nearby tree and leaning in to kiss her mother’s cheek. 

“We’re glad you both made it,” her dad said softly from where he sat across the room. He had one grandchild, three year old Adrian, perched on his lap with a board book in his hands. 

Kerry’s heart clenched at his words and the image. Hector was the warmer of Sandy’s parents, in many ways reminding her of her own late father. His welcoming demeanor always meant a great deal to her. While none of the Lopezes knew she and Sandy were expecting, they expected Hector would be pleased by the news. Florina, they knew, would be another story completely. 

Both women made their way deeper into the cozy house, which seemed to be heated entirely by body heat and the activity in the kitchen. Sandy’s three brothers and two sisters-in-law chatted and cooked as their combined five children played with their grandfather and each other. 

While Sandy went to see her brothers, Kerry offered to help Lauren and Theresa in the kitchen. She was grateful she had something valuable — in this case, her cooking skills — to contribute. It also gave her the opportunity to socialize with the other women, neither of whom she’d spent much time with. 

“Miguel wants one more. I want him to get a vasectomy,” Lauren said quietly, keeping an eye on their mother-in-law to ensure she wasn’t being overheard. “I think we’re going to settle on a puppy.” 

Kerry laughed in surprise. She liked Lauren a lot. Her sense of humor was biting, she was close to Kerry in age, and she also worked in healthcare as a physical therapist at Northwestern. From what Sandy had told her, Lauren also had to fight for Florina’s approval early on; while no one would openly call the matriarch racist, rumor had it that she wasn’t exactly thrilled when Miguel had brought his Black girlfriend home to meet the family over a decade ago. Now she was just another member of the growing Lopez family. Kerry hoped she, too, would achieve that degree of acceptance. 

“You know that a puppy isn’t exactly a walk in the park, right?” Theresa interjected. To Kerry, she explained, “Eddie and I got Lucy before we were married. She was eight weeks old and, I’m not saying having a newborn was easier, but the first few weeks of puppy parenthood were rough.” 

“Oh, I know,” Lauren responded as she continued plating the pasteles Florina had cooked earlier in the day. “The difference is that we have three more sets of hands to help out. You two were just babies yourselves back then.” 

“What about you, Kerry?” Theresa asked. 

Kerry’s mind froze and she had to force her hands to continue dicing the tomato in front of her. There was no way they knew, right? 

“What?” 

“You guys have a dog. How do you think he compares to a kid?” Theresa responded easily, having missed Kerry’s reaction. 

Relief washed over Kerry. 

“Oh, well, Wrigley’s an old man, so I don’t think it really compares,” she answered. “He was totally trained when he came to live with us, we just had to teach him to give us a bit of personal space.” 

“Did he have separation issues or something?” Theresa questioned. 

“Wait, Ter, haven’t you heard this story?” Lauren asked suddenly, excitement in her voice. When Theresa shook her head, Lauren looked to Kerry. “You have to tell her the story. It’s so cute.” 

Kerry obliged, happy to have something unrelated to her still-secret pregnancy to focus on. By the time she was done relaying the story of how she begrudgingly became the guardian of the stinky (literally), homeless seeing eye dog she now had immense affection for, they had finished preparing lunch. Florina, pleased with the work they’d done, called everyone to the dining room. 

The afternoon continued smoothly, Kerry becoming more and more relaxed. She’d almost forgotten about the spotting altogether until she excused herself from the table after the meal to use the restroom. 

Kerry’s stomach, which just moments ago had felt pleasantly full of homemade Puerto Rican food, churned when she saw the amount of blood the pad had absorbed in the last two hours alone. 

Maybe this wasn’t nothing. 

Kerry saw Sandy’s eyes light up as she reentered the dining room. She often reflected on how, this far into their relationship, Sandy responded to her presence with the same enthusiasm as when they had just begun dating. She usually loved how that made her feel. 

Today, however, it made her heart feel heavy. 

Returning to where she had been sitting next to Sandy, she placed a hand on her partner’s shoulder. 

“I got a page from the ED — they’re down an attending and a resident. I need to go in until John gets back this evening,” she told her wife. It wasn’t a lie, she had told herself while she formulated a viable excuse in the bathroom; the department _did_ have a skeleton staff today, John _was_ working a shift after his flight landed in a few hours, and she _did_ need to go in...just not for the reason others would assume. 

Instead, she needed to discreetly access the sonosite so she could get an idea of what was happening. 

“Aw man, really?” Sandy complained immediately. “Can’t they survive without you for one day?” 

“Rarely,” Kerry said, shaking her head. She looked at Florina and Hector across the table with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to have to leave so soon. Thank you for lunch; it was delicious.” 

Hector smiled and nodded while Florina gave her an appraising look, “Well, hopefully it will not be so long before you both visit again.” 

Kerry nodded then looked back down at Sandy, squeezing her shoulder. “Do you mind if I take the car?” 

Sandy shook her head, standing up, reaching into her pocket and extracting the key ring. She removed the car key — Kerry had a key to their apartment in her purse, she knew — and handed it over. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Sandy said, following Kerry out of the dining room and toward the front door. Kerry said her goodbyes to Lauren, Theresa, and Sandy’s brothers as they went. 

“I can’t believe you’re going in,” Sandy said, a slight tone of disapproval in her voice as Kerry buttoned her coat and shouldered her purse. 

Kerry didn’t want to defend her decision, which would require telling her wife more non-truths. Nor did she want to burden Sandy with this new knowledge, or the lack thereof, of what was happening inside of her body. She just wanted certainty as soon as possible so she could formulate a plan. 

“I’ll page you when I’m leaving. It shouldn’t be later than eight.” She said, pulling the door open. She turned back before it closed. “I love you.” 

Sandy nodded, “I know. I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: threatened/potential miscarriage, blood.
> 
> Part II to follow.


	5. 14 Weeks 6 Days, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning in end notes.

“Doctor Weaver, what are you— are you wearing _jeans_?” Randi asked from where she stood at the admit desk. Kerry had just entered the ED through the lobby, having parked in her assigned spot rather than on the street. 

She paused, caught off guard. She had hoped to make it to an empty exam room before anyone saw her, but now realized how implausible that was. How would she explain taking the sonosite in there with her when she wasn’t even working? 

“Where’s Doctor Lewis?” She asked the clerk, who directed her to the lounge. 

When Kerry entered she found Susan sitting on the couch and Abby at the table. The two women were clearly in the middle of a conversation. 

“Oh, hi, Doctor Weaver,” Abby noticed her first. 

“Kerry,” Susan said, confused. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Kerry nodded her head toward the door.

“Can I, uh, speak to you for a moment? In private?” she asked Susan, keeping her voice as steady as possible. The closer she got to knowing, the worse she felt. She had changed her pad before leaving the Lopez house and was now hyper aware of the continued blood loss. 

Susan’s brow furrowed but she conceded, rising from the couch and placing her coffee mug in the sink. 

“What’s going on?” Susan asked once they were in the hallway. 

Kerry didn’t respond, instead fixing her eyes on Exam One. The overhead lights were off. 

“Kerry?” Susan asked seriously after the door had shut. Kerry finished pulling the blinds shut before responding. 

“I’m bleeding.” 

“Okay,” Susan nodded, understanding immediately. “Are you spotting?” 

“Maybe. That’s what I thought…” Kerry shook her head. “But the volume…” 

“How much?” 

“One, almost two pads in three hours,” she said quietly, avoiding the other doctor’s gaze. 

“Okay, well, that could still be spotting,” Susan reminded her. “How far along are you?” 

“15 weeks tomorrow,” Kerry answered. 

“Any cramping or other abdominal pain? Have you passed any clots?” 

Kerry shook her head ‘no’ to all three questions. She had been feeling fine over the last couple days, better than she had in months. She had assumed it meant that the awful side effects of the first trimester were finally coming to an end. Now she realized it was just as likely that her hormones had dropped due to first trimester fetal demise. Miscarriage. 

“When was your last OB appointment?” 

“12 days ago. Everything was fine.” 

Susan moved to a nearby cupboard where she grabbed a patient gown and disposable underpad, both of which she handed to Kerry. 

“We’ll do an ultrasound, get your vitals and draw some blood,” she said. “Are you comfortable with Abby coming in to assist? It’s okay if you aren’t, but it would be quicker if she did.” 

Seeking Susan’s help had been slightly more palatable because the other doctor already knew about the pregnancy. Abby didn’t. Though the younger woman was a fantastic nurse and had been a promising medical student, Kerry wasn’t keen on having even one more person know about her pregnancy, especially under these circumstances. Ultimately, however, her need to know if she even was still pregnant outweighed that concern.

“Abby’s fine,” Kerry confirmed. 

Susan nodded with a weak smile. Her instinct was to place a supportive, comforting hand on her colleague’s shoulder, but she resisted, not wanting to contribute to any discomfort Kerry already felt. 

Soon, Kerry was on the gurney, the large absorbent square beneath her and the thin sheet and blanket pulled up to her wist. She had folded her clothing and slid them into the white belongings bag, which she stowed away under the gurney. 

When Abby entered the exam room, she didn’t offer a greeting, any platitudes or concerned looks, and only asked if Kerry preferred she draw blood from one arm over the other. Kerry offered up her left. The stick was painless, over before she knew it, and then Abby was taking her vitals. 

“Your BP’s a little low,” Abby commented. “Are you feeling hypotensive?” 

Kerry shook her head. Physically, she still felt fine, which made her being here that much more surreal. 

“You’re probably just dehydrated. I’ll see if Doctor Lewis wants to start a line.” 

As if she’d heard her name, Susan entered the room with the sonosite in tow. As she set it up, Abby consulted with her about starting an IV. Susan thought it was a good idea, just in case. 

“This will be cold,” Susan warned before she squirted clear gel on Kerry’s pale stomach which, unclothed, appeared undeniably pregnant. Though she had known about the pregnancy for nearly a month now, Susan had thought more than once that Kerry didn’t appear pregnant at all. The lab coat was a great shield. 

Kerry felt as though hours were passing by as Susan moved the transducer around her stomach in search of a heartbeat that may not even be there to find. A heartbeat that Kerry had only heard a few times, that Sandy had only heard twice. 

Sandy. 

Kerry should’ve told Sandy what was happening, requested that she accompany her to the hospital. She hadn’t wanted to worry her partner or to have to navigate Sandy’s feelings and questions on top of her own. Now she realized that she hadn’t given her partner enough credit. She wanted Sandy here, holding her hand, comforting her. Sandy was good at that. How was she going to explain that the baby, their baby, was— 

“There!” Susan exclaimed, her tone equal measures excitement and relief, nothing like the tone she’d use with a typical patient. “There it is.” 

She switched on the sonosite’s speakers, allowing the even _lub-dub lub-dub lub-dub_ of the baby’s heartbeat to fill the room. 

Kerry couldn’t move or speak, though she felt relieved tears running down her cheeks. 

There it was. 

* * *

“From what I could tell, the baby is okay and your cervix isn’t dilated, but I still think we should page OB while the saline runs and we wait on your labs,” Susan said firmly. She and Abby had given Kerry a moment to collect herself after the ultrasound yielded positive results before proceeding with a quick pelvic exam. Though it remained unspoken, all three women had clearly thought that she had been miscarrying. Now that they knew she wasn’t, Susan wanted to ensure that Kerry was fully checked out. Her pregnancy was still, for all intents and purposes, high risk. 

In a perfect world, Kerry thought, the bleeding would stop and she could go home and enjoy the remainder of her weekend. In reality, the bleeding hadn’t stopped. It hadn’t even slowed. Even though her baby’s heart was beating, the worry hadn’t completely dissipated. She wouldn’t be able to fully relax until she knew what was happening.

She knew her OB was on vacation this week, having been told that the practice’s other obstetricians would handle any urgent concerns that popped up. They would be open at eight o’clock the next morning, though she knew how unlikely getting a same-day appointment was considering they were already shorthanded. She’d likely have to wait until at least midweek before being seen. 

Staying in the ER wasn’t ideal, but it was what made sense. 

“You’re right,” Kerry agreed. “Just...please make sure an attending comes down. Tell whoever it is that I’m requesting them. No residents or students.”

Though it was typically a challenge to get any department’s attendings down on the first call, permission to use Kerry’s name would certainly help; any attending who didn’t have immense respect for the Chief of Emergency Medicine and Interim co-Chief of Staff found her either intimidating or annoying enough to do what she asked rather than deal with the consequences of not. 

“I’ll page OB and get the ball rolling,” Susan assured. 

* * *

“Hey, Doctor Lewis?” Randi called from the admit desk immediately upon seeing Susan exit Exam One. Her eyes were wide and one eyebrow was raised. “Uh...Sandy’s here looking for Doctor Weaver? Because you called her in? To cover until Carter gets here?” 

Susan’s eyes landed on the petite brunette beside the clerk. 

“Good luck,” Abby muttered, turning quickly to head in the opposite direction. 

“Hey, Sandy,” Susan said. “How’s it going?” 

“Uh, fine,” the younger woman replied, glancing around the quiet ED suspiciously. “You called Kerry in for this?” 

“Kerry’s is Exam One right now,” Susan avoided Sandy’s question entirely. “If you want to hang out here or in the lounge, I’ll let you know when she’s ready?” 

Though she didn’t appear to be fully convinced, Sandy just nodded and turned around. Rather than head for the lounge as Susan expected, she stood at the admit desk with her eyes trained on the Exam Room in question. Suspicious, indeed. 

Susan sighed, turning back toward where she came from. This — the weeds of Kerry and Sandy’s relationship — was not territory she wanted to enter, though she wasn’t sure she’d have a choice. 

“Hey, Kerry?” Susan asked quietly, giving the other woman a heads up before slipping around the privacy curtain. “Sandy’s here. Looking for you.” 

Kerry blanched. “Did you…?”

“I told her you were in here but didn’t say why. She’s waiting in the lounge,” Susan said. “She thinks you’re working. You didn’t tell her why you were coming in?” 

Kerry shook her head. 

“I should have. I didn’t want to worry her,” Kerry replied meekly, her voice quivering. 

“You should tell her now, let her be here with you,” Susan recommended gently. “I think she already suspects something’s going on.” 

Kerry knew Susan was right. Sandy had likely swung by the ER on her way home and begun to doubt Kerry’s claim when she saw how empty the department was. Sandy was perceptive, especially when it came to Kerry. 

“Okay.” 

* * *

Though Sandy knew Kerry had been dishonest earlier, she hadn’t anticipated finding her tucked into a hospital bed, tethered to an IV. Her eyes were red and watery, though she wasn’t currently crying. Fear and anxiety turned Sandy’s stomach. 

“What happened?” she asked, crossing the room to stand by her wife’s side. Any frustration she’d been feeling fell away to be dealt with later. Right now, she needed to know that Kerry was okay. 

“It’s okay,” Kerry began. “ _We’re_ okay. I just...I was worried about the bleeding and I wanted to get checked. But I’m not…” she didn’t dare say the word. “Everything looks okay. I think I overreacted.’ 

Sandy exhaled loudly, overwhelmed yet relieved. 

“So can I take you home?” 

Kerry frowned, “Not yet. Susan ordered some labs and an OB consult.” 

“I thought you were okay?” 

“I am. We think I am. The bleeding could just be spotting, but the volume is...slightly abnormal. That combined with my age and all of the fertility treatments...it just makes sense to confirm that...that my cervix isn’t dilating prematurely.” 

Sandy nodded slowly, processing what Kerry was telling her. She had picked up some obstetrics lingo throughout Kerry’s fertility treatment and pregnancy thus far and was pretty sure she understood what was being described. 

“So you aren’t…” she trailed off, struggling to say the next word, “miscarrying...and someone from OB is coming down to make sure it stays that way?” 

Kerry nodded. “It shouldn’t take long.” 

“I don’t care how long it takes, Ker,” Sandy said gently, lowering the side of the gurney and taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, facing the redhead. She held Kerry’s hand in hers. “You should have told me.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Kerry shook her head, then leaned in to rest her forehead against her partner’s shoulder. “I was...”

“Scared?” Sandy offered, kissing the crown of Kerry’s head. 

“Yeah, and I didn’t want you to be scared, too, unless there was reason to be,” Kerry explained. 

“You don’t need to protect me, and you don’t need to do this alone,” Sandy said, leaning back to look Kerry in the eye. “Let me be here for you.” 

Kerry bit her lip, trying hard to keep tears from falling. She didn’t dare speak, knowing that would break the dam. She only nodded. 

Sandy cupped Kerry’s cheek and kissed her forehead. 

“Knock, knock,” a woman’s voice said from the other side of the privacy curtain. 

Quickly, Kerry sat up a little straighter and wiped her eyes. Sandy stayed where she was, Kerry’s hand stil in her own. 

“Hi, Kerry,” Janet Coburn said as she entered. Abby was a few paces behind, ready to assist the attending if needed. 

“Doctor Coburn,” Kerry greeted. “I appreciate you coming down.” 

Janet nodded in polite acknowledgement. She was not thrilled about being called down to the ER for what was likely a case of low or moderate complexity — one that a resident could certainly handle — but she understood the request all the same. 

“Doctor Lewis filled me in,” she said, picking up the paper chart from the end of Kerry’s bed. “I agree with both of your assessments: the continued blood loss could be cause for concern. Benign heavy spotting isn’t unheard of, of course — cervical polyps are actually quite common — but I think we’d all feel better if we knew what was happening. I’d like to do a pelvic exam and a transvaginal ultrasound to get a better look at your cervix. Does that sound okay to you?” 

“It does,” Kerry nodded. She felt relieved to hear Janet’s gameplan. 

“Good,” Janet said. She turned to Abby and requested that the nurse gather the necessary supplies, then turned back to Kerry and promised to return soon to complete the exam. 

* * *

“Your cervix is closed,” Janet said, pointing at the sonosite screen. “But it’s thinning ever so slightly and measuring shorter than we’d like to see at this point — just about 40 millimeters.” 

“What? What does that mean?” Sandy asked, alarmed by how Kerry’s hold on her hand had tightened upon hearing the news. 

“The cervix shortens and stretches, gets thinner, throughout pregnancy in preparation for delivery. Premature loss of length is correlated with preterm labor. It’s called ‘cervical incompetence,’” Janet explained as she finished the scan and helped Kerry assume a more comfortable position. “The probability of preterm labor for a first time mom measuring 40 millimeters at 15 weeks is between ten and fourteen percent, but we also have to consider the additional risk of early labor based on mom’s age.

“The goal, obviously, is to keep mom’s cervix closed for as long as possible,” the obstetrician continued. She knew Kerry knew this but would never expect her to be thinking like a physician right now. Janet also wanted to ensure Kerry’s partner understood what was happening. “There are things we can do now to make sure that happens. Progesterone suppositories have been shown to help in some cases, but I would strongly recommend you go straight to a cervical cerclage.” 

“A cervical cerclage is…?” Sandy questioned. 

“It’s a minor procedure to place a small stitch around the opening of the cervix to keep it from opening,” Janet responded. Looking to Kerry, she continued. “We would give you a spinal so you wouldn’t have to go under, the stitch is placed transvaginally so there will be no incisions. There’s a small risk of infection, but it’s minimal. You’re usually only in the OR for up to 45 minutes. Post-op varies patient to patient and I would want to consult with the rest of your team, but barring any complications, I would likely be comfortable with you returning to typical activities in a week or so.” 

Kerry raised her free hand up to her face, her fingers covering her eyes as she took a steadying breath. Her eyes burned with more tears that threatened to fall. She didn’t want the procedure, didn’t want more hormones. She didn’t want this to be happening. 

“Kerry,” Janet said, her voice quieter but still firm. Kerry dropped her hand to make eye contact with the other doctor. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but it is good that we caught this early. A lot of my patients with CI don’t know they have it until we need to do an emergency cerclage later in pregnancy when it’s much riskier. Taking care of it now, when you’re just barely out of the first trimester, will go a long way in keeping you and your baby healthy.” 

Kerry took another breath. The obstetrician was, of course, right. A cervical stitch would be the surest way to keep her baby safe and healthy inside of her for as long as possible. 

“How soon can you do it?” Kerry asked at last.

Janet nodded, accepting the unspoken request — or, perhaps, demand — that she be the one to perform the procedure. Luckily for Kerry, Janet had been reviewing the coming week’s schedule when she’d been paged to the ER. She didn’t have any clinic appointments on Mondays and her first scheduled procedure wasn’t until noon. 

“I’ll have to check with the OR, but we should be able to get on the schedule tomorrow morning. You’ll be NPO after midnight,” she offered. 

“I don’t need to be admitted, though,” Kerry stated. 

The finality of Kerry’s statement, which contrasted with her uncharacteristically tame demeanor throughout their interaction thus far, gave Janet pause. Planned cerclages were considered ‘elective’ procedures because they were not emergent; usually, once it was determined that a patient needed a cervical stitch, they were scheduled to have the procedure within seven to ten days. Most patients having a cerclage early in their pregnancy, however, weren’t actively bleeding and considered high risk like Kerry was. At the same time, very few of her patients were themselves physicians who could responsibly self-monitor at home. 

“No, you don’t,” Janet agreed. “But you do need to rest and hydrate. Your blood pressure is already a little low despite the saline and we do not need it bottoming out in the OR.” 

Kerry nodded affirmatively, a little more lively now that the comfort and privacy of her home were within sight. 

“Okay, then, I’m going to step out and call the OR to get you on the schedule. I’ll be back with a time and pre-op instructions in a bit, and then I’ll hand you back over to Doctor Lewis” Janet said. 

Kerry and Sandy both thanked the obstetrician. Once alone, Sandy immediately pulled Kerry into her arms. Neither woman was crying. In fact, despite not getting the news they wanted, they both felt relief washing over them, weight lifted off their shoulders, as if they had dodged a bullet. 

There remained a lot to talk about, of course, and they had to face tomorrow, but Kerry and their baby would be okay. For now, that was enough.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: non-graphic description of obstetrical/gynecological medical procedure


	6. 16 Weeks

Kerry remained seated in the chair farthest from the board, eyes on the computer monitor in front of her but ears listening to John. He was confidently doling out patients to the residents and students, handing the yellow charts out as he wrote their initials on the translucent board. 

The department had been slow all morning which was why she’d handed John the reins for the day; he had recently expressed a desire for more leadership opportunities outside of his Chief Resident duties and she figured this would be a good place to start. Kerry also thought it would be good to start preparing him for her approaching maternity leave.

“Go forth and heal,” John finished, clapping his hands once and sending the younger doctors and students out onto the floor. 

“Anything for me?” Kerry asked once the area cleared. She slid off the chair and adjusted the cuff of her crutch around her forearm; regardless of whether there was a patient for her to see, her next stop would be the restroom to relieve her bladder. Again. 

John glanced at the board then back at Kerry. He was about to respond when something over Kerry’s shoulder caught his eye. 

“Weaver!” 

Kerry shut her eyes at the grating sound of Robert Romano’s voice and then turned around to face the briskly approaching physician. 

“Can I help you, Robert?” 

Now standing across from Kerry in between the admit desks, Robert was poised for a faceoff. 

“You could have helped me by showing up to the eight o’clock meeting that _you_ requested.” 

Kerry restrained herself from swearing out loud. She had, in fact, scheduled a meeting with him for this morning. Though she had taken on a number of Robert’s administrative responsibilities over the past year, he was still technically her boss and she still technically needed his stamp of approval on her maternity leave request. That was the objective of the meeting she had completely forgotten about. She even had printed copies of her proposal for shift and administrative coverage in her backpack. 

“We’ve been incredibly busy,” Kerry bluffed, attempting to cover up her mistake. Anyone with a sliver of knowledge about the operations of an Emergency Department could take one look at triage and know this was a lie. “I’ll call Brenda to reschedule.”

“Oh, no, you will not,” he shook his head. “We’ll talk now and that’ll be that.” 

A stinging heat rose from Kerry’s chest and up her neck. She was simultaneously angry, annoyed, and anxious. She had to tell Robert that she was pregnant soon. In addition to getting her maternity leave on the books, she would also need to work with him and probably Anspaugh to organize coverage in the final weeks of her pregnancy when she’d inevitably have activity restrictions. She was also running out of ways to effectively hide her growing belly. Regardless of the growing necessity, she had absolutely no desire to tell him like this.

“Well? What was so important that you had to schedule a meeting, yet not important enough for you to remember?” Robert asked pointedly before glancing at Carter. “Our young Chief Resident hasn’t fallen off the bandwagon again, has he?” 

John just shook his head at the Chief of Staff’s ruthlessness. 

“Oh stop it, Robert.” Kerry commanded. She wanted to avoid having this conversation in the middle of the ER, but having Robert attack her staff was no better. “I simply needed to talk to you about scheduling some time off.” 

Robert’s small eyes narrowed suspiciously. “When and how much?” 

“Twelve weeks beginning in mid-April.”

John, who had been looking at the chart in his hands while his ears listened to the two administrators' exchange, felt his eyes widen in surprise. Three months was a lot of time off for anyone, nevermind the head of a department. 

Robert barked out a laugh, “That’s a good one.” 

“It isn’t a joke, Robert. I’m already setting up contingency plans, there will be plenty of coverage-” 

“You cannot be serious,” Robert interrupted. “County Attendings don’t get sabbatical leave, you know. If you wanted that, you should’ve gone private.” 

“It isn’t a sabbatical,” Kerry argued. “Between my accumulated earned time—” 

“Much of which you’ve been burning through lately, I’ve noticed” Robert shot back. “Or have you forgotten how you so unceremoniously bailed on us last week?” 

“— and County policy, I am entitled to 12 weeks of leave.”

“What policy?” 

John wasn’t even pretending to be minding his own business, now. His gaze swung back and forth between the two doctors as if their verbal sparring was a tennis match. 

“Your lesbian lover isn’t pregnant, is she?” Robert asked before Kerry could respond. “Last time I checked, maternity leave is for bio-mommies only.” 

Kerry tipped her head back, took a deep breath, then looked Robert right in the eye. 

“I’m pregnant,” she stated firmly. “And, for the record, our parental leave policy applies to any new parent or guardian who needs it. The Board took care of that while you were out on leave yourself.” 

Still watching the exchange, John’s jaw nearly dropped. Abby, who had approached the desk just in time to hear Kerry’s admission, smiled. The secret was finally out.

Robert stared at Kerry for a long moment, his expression indecipherable. He then nodded once, sharply, and turned on his heel toward the elevator. Over his shoulder, he said, “Twelve weeks in mid-April. Keep me informed, Kerry.” 

Kerry practically deflated once Romano was out of sight. She’d just announced her pregnancy in the middle of the ER. Her entire staff would know by lunchtime, the hospital by tomorrow morning. 

That same heat she’d felt creeping up her neck earlier was quickly returning. 

“Are okay, Doctor Weaver?” Abby asked, her voice breaking through Kerry’s thoughts. 

Kerry turned to see the younger woman looking at her, concerned but smiling slightly. Next to Abby, John struggled to keep his excitement in check. 

That wasn’t how the announcement was supposed to be made. In fact, Kerry hadn’t even wanted an announcement. She wanted a memo to go out at the end of the day tomorrow, Friday, so it would be old news by the time she got to work Monday morning. Now she would have to finish the rest of this shift and all of tomorrow’s while the news spread before her eyes. 

She accepted the fact that people talked about her. It came with the territory of both being the boss as well as keeping much of her personal life private. She was less comfortable with the prospect of being present while people talked about her. The idea of a huddle of her employees stopping their conversation as soon as she approached made her shudder. As much as she hated to admit it, such scenes reminded her too much of the alienation she experienced in middle and high school. Unfortunately, she knew the rest of her week would be filled with such situations. 

However, between her procedure the week prior and her rapidly changing body, keeping the pregnancy a secret had been increasingly difficult. She hadn’t realized until she returned to work on Monday just how much effort she put into little things like making sure her suit jacket or white coat stayed positioned just so to hide her protruding belly. It was, she had told Sandy that Monday evening, exhausting. 

Kerry looked back at John and Abby. Her unease dissipated as she noticed their pleasure. She knew deep down that she had been afraid of her staff’s reaction when they finally found out. While John and Abby weren’t exactly a representative sample — especially since Abby already knew about the pregnancy — this gave her some needed reassurance that it might not be awful. 

“I’m okay,” Kerry said, nodding and offering a small smile. 

“Wow! Congratulations, Kerry!” Carter exclaimed, finally unleashing his excitement. He had an urge to give her a hug but settled for a warm hand on her left shoulder. “I had no idea.” 

Kerry glanced at Abby, raising an eyebrow in amused curiosity. John caught the silent exchange and looked at Abby as well. “ _You_ knew?” 

Abby remained quiet, though her grin gave her away. 

“And you didn’t tell me?” John asked, sounding not unlike an exasperated teenager who felt he was entitled to know his parents’ business. They knew he was only half-joking. 

“I asked her not to, John,” Kerry cut in, chuckling at the younger man’s dismay. “And I greatly appreciate her discretion. Though that doesn’t excuse everyone else’s apparent lack of attention to detail...did you _really_ not know?” 

“Didn’t even cross my mind,” John said, shaking his head, “I don’t think anyone knew!” 

Abby laughed at that. “No one knew for sure, obviously, but there were plenty of suspicions among the nursing staff. I think Haleh won the pool for when you’d finally have to announce it.” 

John’s dismay returned. 

“Well, feel free to tell her she’s won,” Kerry offered lightly, still amused. “And if you two could keep an ear out for any wildly incorrect rumors, I’d appreciate it. The last thing I need is the Board panicking because they’ve heard I’m giving up medicine to be a stay-at-home mom.” 

Though Kerry’s tone was light, John and Abby knew her request was genuine and agreed. They were all familiar with how facts could become distorted in County General’s elaborate game of telephone.

Suddenly, the glass doors separating triage from the rest of the department slid open behind them. From beyond them emerged two EMTs, a teenage girl on the gurney, and a distraught woman walking beside her. 

John gave Kerry an apologetic shrug before going with Abby to assess the newest arrival. As an afterthought, he called out over his shoulder, “Congratulations again, Kerry!” 


	7. 17 Weeks

At the start of her shift the Monday after her impromptu announcement about her pregnancy, as well as the subsequent memo that was distributed to hospital administration, Kerry was handed a message on a pink square of paper. 

_Anspaugh. Conference Room A. 12:30 P.M._

“Frank, did Dr. Anspaugh indicate what this meeting is about?” Kerry asked in an attempt to quell her rising anxiety. 

“Nope,” the clerk said, shaking his head. The older man glanced at the doctor who was now standing by the translucent board. “So, you’re having a kid, huh?” 

Kerry shut her eyes for a moment. _So it begins,_ she thought. Frank had never been a particularly kind individual, nevermind his occasional xenophobic, racist and even homophobic remarks. However, she often felt he had at least a modicum more respect for her, due perhaps to her ability to shut him up. At least, she thought he did. 

“Yes, Frank, I’m pregnant,” Kerry confirmed, picking up a chart and turning to him. 

The clerk nodded gruffly. Kerry braced for impact. 

“Congratulations,” Frank said at last, his voice slightly quieter than normal, though his ever present frown didn’t disappear. “It’s about time the ER welcomed another little bastard to the bunch.” 

Kerry cringed slightly at his use of the word ‘bastard’ but couldn’t help feeling both awed and even warmed by the seemingly sincere sentiment. This was, after all, the same man who told her she’d be going to hell for being a lesbian just a few years prior. 

“Uh..thank you, Frank. I think,” Kerry replied before walking past him and away from the desk, ready to see her first patient of the day. 

— 

Kerry was on edge by the time 12 o’clock rolled around. While they hadn’t had many traumas, the start of cold and flu season meant a significant influx of patients who would probably be better off resting at home, but who either couldn’t afford over the counter medication — a sad reflection of their healthcare system — or needed a doctor’s note to excuse their absence from school or work. She didn’t mind the menial work, but today it wasn’t enough to distract her from her thoughts. 

_Why does Anspaugh want to meet with me? The Board must be upset. I should’ve gone to Anspaugh first, before scheduling the meeting with Romano. Chain of command be damned. Damnit, Kerry. Why didn’t you think this through?_

Up on the sixth floor, Kerry entered the conference room at 12:24 p.m. and found Don Anspaugh already seated at the end of the table nearest the door. He looked up, and Kerry noticed how his gaze lingered on her midsection for a half-second; the light blue blouse she wore under her white coat did nothing to hide her bump. 

“Take a seat, Kerry,” Donald said, indicating the row of seats to his left. Kerry took one gratefully. “Thanks for making the time to meet with me.” 

“Of course,” Kerry nodded. “It’s a welcome break, frankly. Cold and flu season has officially begun.”

“Well, then, you’re welcome,” Don joked. He removed his reading glasses and set them on the glossy wooden table next to his pager and a ballpoint pen. There were sheets of white printer paper spread out all around him.

“I suppose I should start with congratulations,” the older physician continued. “I have to admit I was surprised by your memo on Friday evening.” 

“Surprised?” Kerry asked tentatively, curious but not sure that she wanted to know exactly what about her announcement had surprised him. 

“It’s rare that I am unaware of a department head’s pregnancy until they announce it.” 

“I’m sorry, Don, I—” Kerry began apologetically. 

“Don’t misunderstand me, Kerry,” Don held up a hand, smiling. “I was merely alluding to the fact that I often hear rumors of such things before they become public knowledge. You either did a fantastic job of keeping it private, or I’ve lost touch with the grapevine,” he paused, chuckling to himself. “Regardless, I do want to offer you my sincerest congratulations,” Don offered again. “You and your partner must be excited.” 

“Thank you, sir, we are very excited,” Kerry said with a tight smile. While Don’s kind words would have typically put her at ease, she was still waiting for the catch. If he wasn’t upset about not having been notified prior to the memo going out, what was the problem? Why was she here?

“I see that you intend to begin maternity leave in mid-April. Am I correct in assuming that that corresponds with your due date?” He asked. 

She was actually due in May, about two weeks after her maternity leave was set to begin. However, she had known since before she even became pregnant that there was no way she would be physically able to work full time in the ER when she was 38 and 39 weeks pregnant. Based on how her left hip and right arm and shoulder were already struggling to adjust to her increasing weight and shifting center of gravity, she now realized she would be lucky if she made it to 30 weeks. 

“In May, actually, but I thought it best to have a cushion just in case,” Kerry responded. 

While many people would be convinced by her confident tone, Don didn’t miss the vagueness of her words. He knew from his own parental experience that all pregnancies came with a certain amount of anxiety about the pregnancy itself. Would mom carry to term? Would the baby be healthy? Would there be complications? And, while he knew little about Kerry Weaver’s personal life, he knew as a physician that, at the very least, her ‘advanced’ maternal age meant there was even more cause for concern. 

“Well, I’m going to go ahead and get to the point,” Don began. 

“I think we are both aware that Doctor Romano has struggled to settle back into his administrative role in the absence of any clinical privileges. I initially hoped —- as we all did — that his temperament and work ethic would improve as his recovery progressed, but that does not appear to be the case. In fact, despite having more time to dedicate to his administrative responsibilities, his productivity has decreased and it has become a burden to the rest of the administration.

“He and I have met multiple times individually, with the Board, and with HR in recent weeks. It was ultimately determined in an emergency Board meeting on Friday evening that Doctor Romano would be asked to submit a letter of resignation as Chief of Staff effective November 30th.” 

Prior to becoming pregnant, Kerry had never been someone who remembered her dreams. She knew she dreamt, of course, but they were never vivid or intense enough to make her ask herself if what she had been seeing was a dream or reality. That changed completely when she became pregnant and her hormones caused dreams so realistic that she often thought they were reality for many minutes after waking. For that reason, she took a moment to determine if Donald Anspaugh’s monologue was real, or just a product of her imagination (and, perhaps, her private hopes and dreams). 

“Are you serious?” She finally asked. 

“Absolutely. I don’t have to tell you that our industry is changing rapidly. As a hospital, we are at a critical point in our growth into the future healthcare. Our physicians need a leader who can provide guidance and support in an organized, professional, and strategic way. The Board is no longer confident in Robert’s ability to do that.” 

Kerry nodded wordlessly, indicating that she both understood and agreed. Her concern regarding Robert’s leadership had been increasing since he returned to work. While she didn’t mind taking over many of his responsibilities, she was surprised that she retained almost all of those responsibilities so many months later. She was never inclined to complain about it, though, for fear of having that little bit of extra power taken away. 

“Now, I want to preface this next part by assuring you that your name was brought up on multiple occasions long before Friday’s announcement, and that said announcement hasn’t changed a thing for me or the rest of the Board,” Don started. “We would like you to step in as Chief of Staff effective December 1st. In the meantime, we will conduct a national search for your replacement in the ER. If you accept the offer, I will gladly step in as interim Chief of Staff during your maternity leave and the job will still be here upon your return.” 

Kerry had to stop herself from blurting out a shocked ‘what?’ despite having heard Don’s proposition very clearly. 

At any other point in her life, Kerry’s answer would have been an immediate and resounding ‘yes.’ She was by nature a shamelessly ambitious woman whose number one focus for much of her adult life was advancing her career. But now, having finally been offered a job she’d been chasing, she felt herself pause.

Though her professional goals hadn’t disappeared completely when she first met Sandy, the younger woman’s presence in her life had certainly encouraged Kerry to be content with what was in front of her rather than constantly reaching for something bigger, better, and more impressive. Her relationship with Sandy allowed her to recognize that her worth was made up of more than her value as a physician-leader; she finally understood that her job didn’t have to be her life. Pretty soon, in addition to being accountable to Sandy, she’d also be accountable to a tiny, helpless human. 

“I...I’m flattered, Don, and I greatly appreciate the offer. It’s no secret that my goal has been to advance administratively...” Kerry trailed off. She looked down at her hands, lingering for just a moment on the gold band on her ring finger, and then looked back up at her longtime colleague. She didn’t want to disappoint him by not giving an answer on the spot, especially since he was essentially handing her the job on a silver platter, but she knew she couldn’t make this decision alone. “But I will need to discuss this with Sandy.” 

“Of course, Kerry!” Don smiled and clapped his hands. Kerry swallowed her surprise at this response and wondered for a moment what his reaction would’ve been had she accepted the offer. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. I appreciate that, while this would be a significant advancement for your career, it would also be a big change amidst an already-significant period of transition in your own life.” 

Kerry nodded in agreement, grateful that he understood her situation. 

“I know you are familiar with the role and many of the responsibilities already, but here is the formal job description as well as an informal offer letter,” Don said, pulling a few pieces of paper from the stack in front of him. He slid the papers into an empty manila folder and handed it to Kerry. “If you accept, we will work with HR to get a formal offer letter and go from there. Because we are closing in on the end of the month, I would like to have an answer for the Board by the end of business Thursday. Does that give you enough time?” 

“Absolutely,” Kerry nodded. She was already desperate to tell Sandy everything. Luckily, she would only have to wait until she arrived home that evening. She was sure she’d be able to give Don an answer by Wednesday, if not sooner. 

“Fantastic,” Don replied. He checked his watch. “I unfortunately have a hard stop at one o’clock. Take some time to think about it and don’t hesitate to reach out with any questions or concerns that might arise. As both a Board member and attending physician here, I am excited by the prospect of bringing you into this role. I want to make the decision-making process as easy as possible for you.” 

“Thank you, Don. Really. I will be in touch soon.” Kerry said gratefully. She was gathering herself to stand up when she thought of something. “And about Robert…” 

“I met with him this morning. He was initially angry but seemed more resigned than anything else, no pun intended. He isn’t aware that we are offering the job to you, of course, and I expect it would be better for all of us if it remains that way until further notice.” 

Kerry sighed in relief. Discretion was her specialty, and she had no qualms about keeping this particular piece of news to herself. 

Don had finished organizing his paperwork as they spoke and accompanied Kerry out of the conference room and toward the elevators. He hit the ‘down’ button on her behalf and then turned to face her once more. 

“Congratulations, Kerry,” he said with a broad smile and a handshake.

Kerry smiled back. She didn’t know precisely what the congratulations was for — her pregnancy or looming promotion — but accepted it nonetheless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is running away and hopefully bringing me with it. Thanks for reading.


	8. 20 Weeks

Kerry shifted in her chair as her pager vibrated at her waist. This was the fourth time it had gone off since Carol Baxter, Chief Nursing Officer, had sat down in front of her fifteen minutes ago. This was the first of their monthly one-on-one meetings. She had been ignoring the pages, assuming that anyone who needed her urgently would call her assistant once they realized she wasn’t going to answer. 

“I’m working with Quality to prepare for our JCAHO accreditation. The surveyors will visit in March and the Chief of Staff typically—” 

Carol was cut off by a knock at Kerry’s office door. It opened before either of them had a chance to respond. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Doctor Weaver,” James, her assistant, said as he stepped into her office. “Your, uh...Sandy is on line one. She says she’s okay, but it is an emergency.” 

Kerry was picking up her phone before the young man finished speaking. 

“Sandy?” 

“It’s my dad. He and my mom are in a rig on their way to County,” Sandy explained quickly. “I don’t have the whole story, but mom thinks he’s having a stroke.” 

“I’ll go down there now. Are you on your way?” Kerry asked, sliding her pager into her pocket and grabbing her crutch from where it leaned against the side of her desk. 

“I’m about fifteen minutes out,” Kerry heard men talking in the background. “Listen, Ker, I gotta go. You’ll go down there?” 

“I’m leaving right now,” Kerry promised. “See you soon.”

“Love you,” Sandy said. 

“You too.” 

“I’ll reschedule with your assistant?” Carol asked, rising from her seat as Kerry rose from hers. She was an experienced critical care nurse and clearly understood the urgency of the situation based on Kerry’s side of the conversation. 

Kerry nodded gratefully, moving toward her office door and holding it open for the nurse. She left Carol with James, told the young man she’d be down in the ER, and moved as briskly as possible toward the elevators. 

Kerry’s mind, which had been fully in administrative mode since officially starting as Chief of Staff on Monday, began sifting through all of her clinical knowledge regarding stroke. She didn’t know enough about Hector to know which stroke risk factors aside from his age applied to him; he seemed generally healthy and wasn’t a smoker, but she had no idea about a family history, if he had hypertension, or what his cholesterol levels were. She assumed she’d know if he had A-fib but couldn’t be sure. Hopefully Florina would be able to fill in the blanks. 

What she did know, on the other hand, were facts and figures. If Florina’s suspicions were correct, an ischemic stroke caused by a blood clot was the most likely culprit, followed by a hemorrhagic stroke caused by a ruptured blood vessel. A brain stem stroke was another possibility, but it seemed unlikely considering its atypical presentation of vertigo and severe imbalance as opposed to the well known one-sided weakness associated with more common types of stroke. 

There were other non-stroke possibilities as well, from a diagnosis as benign as Bell Palsy to something more serious like a structural intracranial abnormality. She wouldn’t know which symptoms Hector was experiencing until she saw him and obviously had no insight into his labs and vitals, so it was difficult to think through a differential. However, the most important thing to her was ensuring that, if he was having an ischemic stroke, he got IV Alteplase — a clot busting medication — as soon as possible. 

“Lily, I’m looking for a patient. 65 year old man, last name Lopez, experiencing stroke-like symptoms?” Kerry asked the first nurse she saw as she stepped off the elevator and into the ER. 

“Trauma One with Doctor Lewis and Gallant,” she responded before ducking into Exam Three. 

Kerry nodded her thanks and made her way past the nurse’s desk and drug lockup. She didn’t think twice before stepping through the double doors of Trauma One. 

“Can you squeeze my hand, Mr. Lopez?” Gallant was holding the older man’s right hand in his left when Kerry entered the trauma room. “He’s got right sided hemiparesis, no deficit on the left.” 

“I told you this,” Florina exclaimed from the foot of the bed, the frustration in her voice clear. “Why aren’t you doing something?” 

Kerry moved to stand beside Florina. Her hand instinctively covered the older woman’s where it rested on the gurney. She gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“What’s his NIH score?” Kerry asked the room. 

“Seven. We’re sending him up to CT as soon as they’re ready,” Gallant responded, obedient despite his confusion at the sudden appearance of the former ER Chief.

“And his last known well?” Kerry followed up while scanning the monitors at the head of the bed. 

“About ninety minutes ago. Wife says he was fine all morning until the dysphagia began during breakfast, at which point she noticed right sided facial paralysis and called 911,” Susan answered. She was as confused as her student. Carefully, she added, “Did you need something? We’re all set in here.” 

Florina spoke up before Kerry could respond.

“What’s happening, Kerry? Is it a stroke?” 

The older woman’s use of the Chief of Staff’s first name got everyone’s attention, though neither woman seemed to notice the room’s reaction. Mrs. Lopez had turned to look at the redhead and Susan noticed the placement of Kerry’s free hand. The pieces fell into place immediately; Kerry’s sudden appearance, her interest in a very basic case, the patient’s name.

“We won’t know for sure until we get some imaging, but his symptoms do suggest an interruption to the blood flow to part of his brain,” Kerry explained gently, looking between Florina and Hector. “But his vitals are stable, he’s conscious, and you got him here quickly. All of those things increase the odds of a positive outcome. You did a good job recognizing the signs.” 

Her reassurance apparently worked as Florina gave a wry smile. 

“He insisted that he did not need to come here, but I could barely understand him because he was slurring,” she shook her head, peering at her husband’s asymmetrical but alert face. She looked both exasperated and concerned. “He is very stubborn”

“Sounds familiar,” Kerry responded with a quiet, understanding smile. 

“Radiology is ready for him,” Chuny’s announcement brought everyone’s focus back to the patient. The team pulled up the sides of the gurney, connected Hector to the portable monitors, and unlocked the wheels. 

“I’ll go up with him. Unless you want to, Kerry?” Susan offered. Mrs. Lopez would have to stay down here and Susan wasn’t sure if Kerry would prefer to stay with her or accompany Mr. Lopez during his CT scan. She had no knowledge of the status of Kerry’s relationship with Sandy’s family and didn’t want to back her boss and quasi-friend into any awkward corners. 

“You go,” Kerry said confidently and turned to Florina. “Would you like to wait in the lounge? Sandy should be here soon.” 

“I can’t go with him?” she asked, looking first at Kerry then Susan. 

Kerry shook her head apologetically.

“Doctor Lewis will let us know as soon as they get back,” she promised. 

“We need to go,” Susan reminded, prompting both women to step out of the way. As they waited at the elevator doors, Florina leaned down and gently kissed her husband’s forehead. Susan could have sworn she heard Mr. Lopez give his wife a quiet though garbled command to ‘be nice.’ 

Kerry held the lounge door open for Florina and followed her inside. It was thankfully empty, everyone busy throughout the department. Kerry had considered bringing her to the family room but thought she might appreciate the quieter, more private space; though Florina was by no means distraught, Kerry knew the family room was often a tense space and didn’t see the point in subjecting Sandy’s mother — or herself — to that unnecessarily. 

Florina took a seat on the couch and Kerry settled in one of the chairs across from her. She checked her pager to ensure she hadn’t missed anything else from Sandy, then looked at the other woman. Her mother-in-law. 

“Do you have any questions?” Kerry asked. 

“When are you due?” 

Kerry froze. 

That was not what she’d meant. 

They had decided that Sandy would tell her family on her own rather than them making a big announcement; Kerry wouldn’t feel comfortable being the center of the Lopez family’s attention and they were both unnerved by the family’s possible reactions.

Last she knew, Sandy had told ‘pretty much everyone’ about the pregnancy. They had actually discussed it on Sunday evening when Sandy returned from her brother’s house. Kerry had assumed, perhaps foolishly, that meant she’d also told her parents. But if Florina knew about the pregnancy then she would surely have at least a vague idea of when the baby was due…

“May 4th,” Kerry said. “I’m about 20 weeks along.” 

Florina nodded once. After a long silence, she finally spoke again. 

“Sandy did not tell us,” she said morosely. 

“I’m sorry. I thought she had,” Kerry said honestly. “We only started telling people in the last couple of weeks.” 

“Are you both healthy?” Florina asked. 

Kerry felt some tension immediately leave her shoulders. Of all the reactions she’d imagined — and even feared — that Florina might have, interest and concern were not among them. In fact, she wasn’t sure if Florina had ever expressed this much interest in her. 

“We are,” she assured. “We had a scare about a month ago, but everything turned out okay.” 

Kerry was further surprised by her own candidness. Since when did she feel comfortable talking to Florina at all, never mind about something as personal as her pregnancy, her _body_?

Florina was poised to respond when the lounge door swung open, revealing Sandy. She looked uncharacteristically flustered. 

“He’s stable. Susan’s with him in radiology,” Kerry said immediately, assuring Sandy of her father’s status as she hugged her mother, who had risen from her seat in anticipation. 

“Mija,” she said as they stepped apart. “What took you so long?” 

“I did the best I could, Mom, but Kerry’s here, isn’t she? I told you she’d stay with you,” Sandy said, leaning down to kiss the crown of Kerry’s head. Without waiting for her mom to respond, Sandy asked Kerry to provide a full update. 

Just about two hours after her arrival at County, Sandy sat in the ICU waiting room with Carlos. Per the unit’s policy, patients were only allowed one visitor at a time. Sandy had already gone in to say hi and to see her dad’s gradual improvement for herself. Her mom was in there now. Carlos had arrived just a few minutes ago, having been at a live fire training on the other side of the city when his station finally managed to contact him, and was next in line. Miguel and Eddie were aware of the situation and, since their dad was stable, would be there once they got out of work. 

Kerry, meanwhile, had been called into an urgent executive committee meeting. She had resisted going but Sandy assured her that, now that the clot busting medication appeared to be working its magic, they would be okay without her for an hour or two. While she greatly appreciated Kerry’s presence throughout this ordeal, she didn’t want to take her wife away from any more work now that things had stabilized. It was, after all, still her first week on the job. 

“So, I take it mom knows?” Carlos asked. 

Sandy frowned at him. 

“Knows what?”

“About Kerry? And the baby? I mean, she must’ve noticed. You said they spent the whole morning together,” Carlos explained. 

“Oh, shit,” Sandy said, looking at her little brother with wide eyes and then cradling her forehead in her hand. When she’d asked Kerry to accompany her parents in the ER, Sandy hadn’t even considered that they still didn’t know about the pregnancy. “Shit.” 

“Well, don’t look now, but…” Carlos warned quietly before he stood from his chair.

Sandy followed his gaze and saw their mom exiting the ICU and waving Carlos over so he could have his turn. 

“He’s still doing okay?” Sandy asked when her mom took Carlos’ seat. 

“He’s able to lift his right arm and his speech is getting clearer,” Florina informed her. “The doctor will check back soon and they will do another CT scan this afternoon to make sure the clot has dissolved.” 

“And you?” Sandy asked. 

“I am surprised.” 

Sandy knew they were no longer talking about her father’s stroke. 

“You didn’t tell us,” Florina stated calmly. “Why didn’t you tell us?” 

As much as Sandy needed to appear to be above others’ opinions of her, it was an undeniable and inescapable truth that her mother’s opinion mattered to her very much. While she rationally knew that her mom loved her and had even come to accept her sexuality in recent years, that didn’t erase the fear of rejection born out of a lifetime of conflict and over a decade of feeling like a disappointment. Sandy had quietly feared that her decision to raise a white baby with her lesbian partner who was white, disabled, and more than a decade her senior would be what finally pushed her mother to give up on her. 

Now, however, she wondered if she hadn’t given her mother enough credit. 

“I wasn’t sure how you’d react,” Sandy said at last. “I know you aren’t— you’ve never been...well, I know my life with Kerry doesn’t thrill you.” 

“Do you think that means I don’t love you?” Florina asked. She meant it as a rhetorical question but, once she saw the look on Sandy’s face, she paused. “You are my daughter, my only daughter. I may not understand some parts of your life but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” 

Sandy stared at her mother. 

“Sandy...” Florina said softly. She placed her petite hand on her daughter’s knee and squeezed gently. “I love you no matter what.” 

“Will you love our baby?” Sandy asked, her voice nearly too soft to hear. 

Florina smiled, then, a big, genuinely happy smile. 

“I love all of my grandchildren,” Florina said. “You are going to be a wonderful mother.” 

“And Kerry? You haven’t exactly been...welcoming towards her...” 

Florina sighed. 

“I have not been fair to her, to either of you. She has been hard to get to know. You know, she is not like the rest of our family — she is a little...reserved. Your father says she is a ‘tough nut to crack.’ At first I did not understand what you…” she trailed off, taking a moment to choose her words carefully, “ _had in common_ with her. But I see how happy she makes you and how much you care for each other. She obviously loves you very much. "She is the mother of my future grandchild and so she is a member of my family.” 

Sandy leaned into her mother, then, and hugged her tightly. She had worked through feelings of confusion and shock, relief, and joy as her mother spoke. While this revelation certainly didn’t fix every aspect of their relationship, it smoothed out many of the sharp corners and rough edges. 


	9. 22 Weeks

Sandy watched as Kerry closed the apartment door behind her and leaned heavily against it, eyes closed, not noticing her wife’s presence. She looked exhausted and pained. There was a chair strategically placed only three feet away, but even that distance was apparently unconquerable today. 

The scene made Sandy’s chest ache. Just over halfway through her pregnancy, Kerry was already struggling with the extra strain the weight gain placed on her hip, back, and even her right arm and shoulder. Sandy hadn’t expressed this to Kerry, but she was deeply concerned about her wellbeing over the remaining 18 weeks. 

“Hey baby,” Sandy said softly, moving from the hallway to the entryway. 

Kerry didn’t have the energy to try to compose herself. Throughout this pregnancy Sandy had been yelled at, cried to, and vomited on more than once. Even before the pregnancy, she had seen Kerry in various states of pain and immobility. While Kerry still tried to maintain her tough exterior at work, she couldn’t always keep up the act at home, and Sandy discouraged her from trying. 

“Hi,” Kerry said, her eyes open and voice strained. She hadn’t moved from her position against the door. “Are you home early, or...?” 

“You’re home late,” Sandy finished. 

Kerry blinked. She hadn’t realized, though she also hadn’t checked the time when she’d finally left the hospital that evening. 

She wasn’t supposed to have worked in the ER today. In fact, she wasn’t supposed to be working in the ER at all. During her discussion with Sandy about the job offer for Chief of Staff, Kerry made it clear that she would not relinquish all of her clinical responsibilities. Sandy, meanwhile, made it equally as clear that she would not allow Kerry’s devotion to the ER to obliterate what was supposed to be a more consistent, Monday-through-Friday schedule. Thus, a compromise had been born and accepted by Anspaugh and the rest of the Board: after her first month as Chief of Staff, Kerry would work at least one but no more than four scheduled shifts per month. 

Today marked the middle of week three in her new role, so between the agreement and the amount of administrative work she still had to catch up on, she really had no business in the ER (except, of course, when Sandy’s own father had been a patient a couple of weeks earlier). However, she couldn’t have said no to the breathless, panicked request for backup Susan made around two o’clock that afternoon, either. Besides, while she was very much enjoying her new role as Chief of Staff, she missed the ER; more than once she’d caught herself yearning for a trauma during marathon meetings with department heads and C-Suite executives. 

Now 22 weeks pregnant, the discomfort of being pregnant was no longer mild and intermittent. Between the weight gain, changing center of gravity and the increasing laxity of the ligaments holding together her already-unstable hip, she was always in some degree of discomfort which, more and more, escalated into pain before day’s end. Thanks to her new office job, she had found relatively effective ways to manage the pain: she could sit, stand, and walk when she needed; the privacy of her office allowed her to plug in an electric heating pad when she wanted; and, as much as she hated to admit it, not spending upwards of ten hours on her feet was a big help. 

That was why, after nearly a month out of the ER, Kerry found herself uncharacteristically emotional about how painful and downright _hard_ it had been to practice medicine that day. 

“What can I do?” Sandy asked, now standing directly in front of Kerry. She wiped away tears that had begun rolling down Kerry’s cheeks and rested her hand lightly on Kerry’s left arm. 

She had learned early on in their relationship not to make assumptions about what Kerry needed when she appeared to be physically struggling. Sandy hadn’t understood at first; she had actually been frustrated when Kerry told her off for always trying to do things for her without asking. Kerry helped her understand that someone’s disability wasn’t an open invitation for unsolicited assistance. While Sandy had become quite skilled at knowing what Kerry needed, just as Kerry had become more open to accepting help, she recognized and respected that Kerry was most vulnerable in moments like this. 

“I...I need to lie down,” Kerry said shakily. She leaned into Sandy’s hand slightly, one of those unspoken requests for support. 

“Let’s get your coat off and go to the bedroom, ‘kay?” Sandy asked, moving to Kerry’s left side, ready to provide physical support if Kerry needed it. 

Kerry agreed and, when they were ready, the couple made their way through the apartment. 

“Do you want to change?” Sandy asked. 

Kerry nodded from where she sat on the edge of their bed. 

Sandy collected Kerry’s favorite grey sweatpants and an oversized Chicago Fire Department tee shirt. She stopped in their bathroom to grab the bottle of acetaminophen and to fill Kerry’s water glass. 

“Did you end up working in the ER today?” Sandy asked, reentering their bedroom and placing the clothing on the bed next to Kerry and the medication and water on the bedside table.

Kerry had begun undressing and gladly accepted the tee shirt to replace her blazer, blouse, and the recently-purchased maternity bra that she was already outgrowing. 

“Mhmm…” Kerry confirmed as she unzipped the fly of her charcoal work pants. She wasn’t actively crying, but her eyes were red and watery. “It was...tough.” 

Kerry was able to rise from the bed just enough to pull the pants off her body without having to stand or ask for assistance, but even that small movement made her groan. She ignored the sweatpants next to her; she’d be warm enough under the covers to not have to put herself through that again. 

“I don’t...I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” Kerry said suddenly, her voice barely a whisper. 

The admission broke the dam that had been holding Kerry’s frustrated tears at bay. A few rapid breathes turned into sobs, each one wracking her body as she cradled her face in her hands. 

Sandy sat down and wrapped her arm around Kerry’s shoulder, allowing her wife to collapse into her and cry into her chest. 

Kerry wasn’t sure how long they’d been sitting there when her crying eased and the hot, sharp pain in her hip resurfaced.

“I really do need to lie down now,” she said quietly. 

Sandy helped Kerry move onto her right side, gave her a pillow to put between her knees and pulled the quilt over her legs. Sandy knew that she was at the point in her pregnancy where laying on her back made her dizzy and that the pillow helped relieve some of the stress on her hips, just like she knew that Kerry had probably already taken Tylenol (she had), which was why she placed the bottle within reach in case she’d need more. Sandy knew exactly what Kerry needed and how she needed it. Kerry was nearly overwhelmed by the evidence of her wife’s love for her. 

Once Kerry was settled, Sandy laid down on her own side of the bed to face her. She rested her right hand on the left side of Kerry’s belly, the shape of which couldn’t be hidden even by the large shirt. She let the silence linger for another moment, waiting to see if Kerry would want to speak first. 

“I...I knew it would be hard, but in no universe did I imagine it would be _this_ hard, _this_ early. I was on my feet for four hours today and now look at me: I can barely hold myself upright. How am I going to do _anything_ in another month, never mind in three months or— or when the baby is actually here?”

The sadness and desperation on Kerry’s face and in her voice unsettled Sandy. This wasn’t the first time Sandy had seen Kerry in pain, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her so emotionally rattled by it. 

“Do you want me to tell you it’ll be okay? Or do you want to talk about what we can do to make this better and all of the reasons why I know you _can_ do this?” Sandy asked. Kerry was so practical that it was sometimes hard to know when she wanted comfort instead of solutions. 

“All of the above?” Kerry responded meekly. 

“Okay, well, it _will_ be okay. We'll get through the next few months, you’re going to give birth to a beautiful baby, and we’re going to have a _family._ We knew it wasn’t going to be easy and we talked about what we could do to make it easier when it got hard, about options. Remember? I mean, I kinda forcedyou to spell it all out for me.” 

Kerry was nodding, smiling slightly at Sandy’s last comment. Sandy had been uncharacteristically nervous when they were planning this pregnancy and it had been Kerry’s duty then to assure her. 

“I know you might not want to hear it, but it really seems like the new job is going to make this easier. You don’t haveto be on your feet in the ER all day. You aren’t even supposed to be; that’s not your job anymore.” 

“Right, but they’re short staffed and—”

“And that’s not your problem.” 

“It actually is,” Kerry corrected. “As Chief of Staff, I oversee all of the departments and support the department heads.” 

“Fine,” Sandy conceded with a sigh. “But you’re not directly responsible anymore. That’s Susan and Luka’s problem until they find your replacement, and you need to let them deal with it.” 

Kerry started to speak then stopped, knowing Sandy was right. Sandy noticed this and took the opportunity to forge ahead. 

“What about those injections you told me about, the steroids?” Sandy asked. “And I know she isn’t your favorite, but Amanda might have some ideas or exercises that could help.” 

Amanda had been Kerry’s off-and-on physical therapist for a number of years. She was a perfectly fine woman towards whom Kerry had no negative feelings. It was the physical therapy itself that Kerry disliked. Aside from the fact that she was only ever there when her hip was flaring particularly badly, physical therapy — being told how to move her body by someone who didn’t live in it — made her feel vulnerable. Still, Amanda was knowledgeable and helpful, which was why she went back year after year. 

“That...that’s a good idea,” Kerry thought aloud. “I can call tomorrow, see what her hours are like these days.”

“And the injections?” Sandy pushed. 

“I’ll bring it up at our next appointment with Janet,” though she knew the corticosteroid injections were practically inevitable, Kerry wasn’t ready to agree to the procedure right now. “I’d need a referral from her anyway.” 

Sandy accepted the answer. So far, it seemed like their discussion was helping Kerry calm down; her voice was steadier when she spoke and her face was less tense. Sandy still had more to say. 

“I know it’s hard but you aren’t completely alone in this, Ker. I know your pain is yours and that’s not something I can fully understand or fix. But all the other stuff? We’re going to take it on together. We’re a team and there’s a no-trade clause. I think we even have some players on the bench, based on how excited my mom was when I talked to her on Monday.” 

Kerry smiled, warmed by the fact that Sandy’s parents’ involvement in their child’s life wasn’t so much a desire as a developing reality. Sandy smiled, too. 

“You’re not doing this alone. Not now, not ever,” Sandy said firmly, her hand moving from Kerry’s belly to her cheek. “I promise.” 


End file.
